


Back to Baker Street

by infinityonjohnlock



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Character Death, Dark John Watson, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-12
Updated: 2014-03-27
Packaged: 2018-01-12 03:28:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1181349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/infinityonjohnlock/pseuds/infinityonjohnlock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happens after His Last Vow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

During my time that I was away, I realised a few things...but let's not get into that. When I had returned to my surprise I had discovered John was in a relationship he was serious about. Usually I never really cared but that was because he never use to take relationships particularly..serious.

I saved him from a bonfire not long after my return and it was quite frightening. I later discovered that that was due to Charles Augustus Magnussen although I'm not planning on talking too much about him. When Mary (John's partner) had called to Baker Street to say something was wrong I don't think I had felt fear like that before. I don't care when I'm in danger myself because why should I but I couldn't let anything happen to John, not this time. I had hurt John for two years and I think I had a lot to make up for.

After it all happened I kind of discovered that I care a lot about John and that I wouldn't let anything happen to him again. I also discovered that for once in my life I felt, lonely. I never cared about having anyone around before John, the only reason he became my flatmate in the first place is because neither of us had money to keep a flat on our own and neither of us were particularly easy people to get a flatmate for. I knew that I had been away for two years but it was different when I was actually back in London, in Baker Street. Each time I looked at his chair I felt a lump in my throat which I brushed off, I _hate_ showing emotion. I knew John was very happy with Mary and that she was, nice...but it was easy to forget sometimes that he wasn't there. Like the times when John left for a short trip when he lived in Baker Street I'd ask for something, like a pen or a cup of tea but it was different this time because when I left my own world and came back I did not remember, 'Oh, John will be back in a few days.' it was more of a, 'He's never coming back.'

Of course I saw him a few times as he was my, um best friend but it wasn't the same as it was before. It was harder to make conversation and he went on and on about how things aren't gonna change and there's no need to worry because him and Mary getting married wasn't going to affect our friendship. What a lie. I knew he was only saying it to 'make me feel better' but of course we didn't see each other for a month after the wedding and the only reason he talked to me after that is because he found me in a drug den, if I wasn't there or he hadn't came I still wonder how long that would've went on for. It was unlikely that it was going to be him that made the first contact anyway.

On the day of the wedding I had discovered that Mary was pregenant, just observing. This didn't help how I was feeling though. If John was to have a child there would be even less of a chance of us seeing each other often. Also, he wouldn't have gone on cases with me anymore as he would've worried that the child would be under danger if they were to threaten any of us, I can predict John sometimes.  Going on cases without John was very boring. Obviouisly before I met him I had did that but it was different because I had gotten to use to him being around. His little comments as I made a deduction, his own observations that he made which I had already noticed, obviosuly but I praised him anyway.

So that brings me to after Magnussen's death. I was about to sent away but I was brought back due to Moriarty's return, everyone was baffled. I was sitting at Baker Street, lying strechted out across the sofa in my house coat, I have no idea what happened to the blue one, I think John may have took it. I was thinking, thinking about what would have happened if I had said to John what I _actually_ wanted to say before getting onto the plane considering I was sent back. Things would've been...awkward. I heard John coming up the stairs, I know his footsteps. He slowly creaked the door and knocked on it softly. I opened my eyes and stared at him, "Can I uh, come in?"  
"Yes." He walked towards his seat, looking tense and awkward, "I noticed before that you put my chair back just forgot to say."  
"Mmm" He cleared his throat, the way he does when he's feeling tense or uncomfortable,

"So, Sherlock?"

"Yes?"

"What exactly did you want to say before you got onto that plane?"

"I already said it, Sherlock is a girl's name."

"Yes I know, _very_ funny but it's not what you actually wanted to say is it?" I felt my chest tighten, like someone had sucked all the oxygen from my lungs and I was left gasping for air, but I didn't gasp, I didn't want him to know I was nervous, "Again, already said it."

He did a little laugh and said under his breath, " _Sherlock_."

"What?"

"I really don't have all day just-"  
  
"What _excactly_ did you expect me to say, John?"

"I don't know Sherlock, really because it's you what the bloody hell am I supposed to expect."  
  
"You obviously expected something if you're sitting right there because if you believe that sentence you just stated completely you wouldn't be unsatisfied with what I said so tell me, what _did_ you expect?"

"I uh-"

"You _what_?"

"It sounds a bit weird." 

I laughed, "I highly doubt that and I know what you're thinking."  
  
"What?"  
  
"You expected me to tell you I loved you."  
  
"How did you-"  
  
"John you've known me how many years now? Is there even a point to that question anymore."  
  
"Right well, I best be heading off Mary might need me."  
  
"Okay, it was uh nice to see you."  
  
"You too." And as he closed the door and walked out into the outside world, loneliness struck me once more. I just wished he has stayed longer and had ended on a less awkward note. I was glad he hadn't asked was that what I wanted to say but I was also scared incase he already guessed that part himself.


	2. Chapter 2

I had just gotten off the phone with Mycroft about Moriarty. I had yet to come across him but I was well aware of his doings during the time of his return. That day Mary was in labour and I knew there was a few outcomes so I had to be prepared to..comfort John. As soon as I hung the phone up John rang, it was as if he was trying to get through whilst I was on the phone to Mycroft so I felt myself getting nervous. "Hello." I spoke

"Still born." I went silent. I didn't know what to say, I wasn't use to this, "Sherlock?"  
"I'm...sorry."  
"Can I come over?"  
"Yes."  
"Thank you." He hung up and I plopped into my chair, thinking.

I went downstairs so wait on John and I let him in. He looked at me with dead, lifeless eyes and I felt guilty because I know he had been through loss before and it was all my fault but there was something different this time. When I saw him at my grave those times there was hope hanging in his eyes but this time there was none, there was nothing it was almost as if he had given up but I wasn't going to let him, I'd been there.

To my surprise he automatically hugged me as soon as I opened the door and for once in my life, I hugged back. I held him tight as he rested his head into the crook of my neck. After a minute or so I felt his chest rising and falling as my shoulder began to dampen. He was crying, my best friend was breaking down right before my very eyes and there was nothing I could do about it. I held him long make sure he felt  _okay_ just a little. After about 5 minutes he drew back, "Sorry." he choked streching the ends of his sleeves to dry his eyes and face. "Don't be." I replied quietly.

Mrs. Hudson came out of her room, "What's wrong?"  
"John, go upstairs." Doing as I asked John turned himself away and trodded up the stairs.

"The baby was still born." I told her

"Oh god, is he okay?"  
"I don't know."

I soon followed John up the stairs and saw him sitting in his chair just staring into empitiness. "Sherlock, I don't think me and Mary are going to work out."  
"Okay." it was a dull answer but I didn't know what else to say.

"Okay?"  
"I don't know what to say."  
"No, what was I even expecting."  
"John, I'm sorry I-"  
"Forget it Sherlock, you're a 'soicopath' as you say, you wouldn't understand."  
"John, I'm um, not _actually_ a sociopath, I do care about people."  
"Yeah are what people are they Sherlock?"  
"You."  
"I'm sorry?"  
"I thought you-"  
"Yes I thought with the bonfire and shooting Magnussen but when I remember that you disappeared for two years without telling me you were dead it becomes difficult to believe unless I've actually heard it from your own mouth!"  
"The speech."  
"What about it?"  
"I thought that might have made that clear."  
"Sorry."  
"It's fine."  
"It's just everything that has happened today I'm not thinking straight I-"  
"John, it's fine."

"Okay."

I walked towards the sofa and plunked myself down into and curled up. I closed my eyes till I felt a warm presence curl up beside me. It was John. He rested my head on me and I didn't say anything. Before I faked my suicide and we lived together, we did this often but we were never a 'couple' as such, we just did it without question. We never talked during it and we never talked about it. It was just a thing we let be and I don't think either of us wanted to question it. He hooked his arm into mine and I hoped to comfort him. I was breaking myself inside to know _I_ had put him through this before I did this to him. For two years I made him feel like this and it was my fault he had given up this time because he was sick of it, he was just sick of it. If I was John, I would've be too, but I couldn't lose him. Not then. Not that he's was only reason that I was there myself. If John went, I would too. I could almost worship him for his strength during that time, I certainly couldn't have done it but every day I have to live with the guilt of what I put him through. I have no idea what it was like for John and I really didn't want to. 

After a while I found myself nodding off, "Goodnight, John."  
"Goodnight, Sherlock."


	3. Chapter 3

I awoke that next morning so find John still liying, snoring beside me. I carefully lifted him so I wouldn't wake him and made my way to the bathroom to get a shower. I crept along the floor until I heard a small whimper behind me. I spun on my heel to find John stretching his legs out across the floor. "Morning." I said

"Morning," he returned, "I should probably get changed."  
"Mmm."

I got a quick shower, got changed and made my way to my room. I saw John, hands in face crying again. I softly sat beside him and wrapped arm around his shoulder in attempt to comfort him. I've always been bad at comfort though. Most of the time I don't really care enough to want to comfort them but John was different I guess. I felt him tense at the feeling of it because he hadn't realised I came in and he hated breaking down in front of other people and for some reason, he hated breaking in front of me. "John."  
"Yes."

"It's um, it's okay."  
"Thank you." He slowly shifted from under me and crept to his own room. It felt weird to think that then though because he had not been in his room for a long, long time. 

"Uh John."  
"Yeah?"  
"Are you moving back in?"  
"Think so."   
I think at that moment I was a little okay myself. I hadn't been _okay_ for a long time. Constant feelings of guilt, jealously, lonlieness, self-hatered and pain for a long time, and it eats you up inside. John was the only person who was ever able to keep me sane for a long time, to keep me somewhat close to _happy_. I did not feel guilt because during that time I hadn't faked my death for two years. I did not feel jealously because I no longer had to envy people with someone who cared about them because I had John and John cared for me and I cared for him. Although when Magnussen said John was my pressure point, he was very right and when he said Mary was John's and not me he was very right _too_ and that's what hurt me the most. It hurt a lot and altough I can't describe it I felt it often. I did not feel lonlieness because I had John I knew that when I went into my mind palace as soon as I left someone would be there. I knew that when I walked out of the house on a case, someone would follow. I knew that every time I uttered a word, there would be someone there to respond. I knew that there would always be someone there but then when I came back, there was no one to go on cases with, no one to go off on my rants to, no one to talk to, _no one._ Self-hatred is something I've always felt. Although when I was with John I never really thought about it but it came back. I felt it even more though because I can never forgive myself for what I had done to John. No one should go through that experience and I have one friend, just one and I manage to put him through the absolute impossible. I'm a horrible friend and a horrible person. I'm an asshole and I've no idea why anyone sticks with me. How John is still here, I don't know. How Mrs. Hudson lets me stay in 221B, I don't know. How Lestrade still wants me for cases without shooting me, I don't know. How Molly ever had any interest in my whatsoever, I don't know all I did was constantly put her down. I still have no clue as to how any of these people ever put up with me, ever. Pain was just a sum of everything, all rolled into one ball that made me curl up at night and hate everything. I lifted up the edge of my blanket and crawled under it. 

Later that day I was lying, sprawled across the sofa when John walked in. "Sherlock?"  
"Mmm?"  
"I'm going out for a walk."  
"Okay."  
"Right."

John walked out of 221B and I sat, alone. I knew he wanted me to come but that really wasn't a good idea.


	4. Chatpter 4

John quietly walked back into 221B. As expected I was still lying across the sofa, I was in my mind palace thinking of the Moriarty case I was currently on. John cleared his throat so to get my attention. As far as he was concerned I had no idea that he had returned but I was very well aware. I opened my eyes a stared at him for a while, raising my eyebrow as to suggest a 'What?' to the doctor. "Hello."  
"Hello?"

"Was that really so hard?"  
I gave him a long, confused questioning look. I'm not one for 'greeting' people as such but considering John hadn't been living with me for a long time I think he had forgotten this. Even when we first met I did not greet him very much, in fact then he would've thought of it as a rude first meeting but he was just unaware of my nature. I rolled my eyes slightly and closed them returning to where I was. I heard John scoff and creep across the wooden floor to his chair. I could hear the sounds of him lifting the newspaper off the table and unfolding it. I never really read the papers, that was always something John did, even if it wasn't for a case. 

I reopened my eyes to look at him. Before I left me and John use to stare at each other. There never was a particular reason, we just did. Perhaps it was somewhat close as to what people call _comforting_ but that's just nonsense really. I watched him carefully read over each page, oh he always was so slow at reading. I would've always came over behind him whilst he was reading a book and read the pages far faster than he had. Usually with that I get impatient but I could put up with John. Although honestly I had read the page twice by the time he had read it once. After about 15 minutes or so he slowly turned the page of the paper, clearing his throat again. It was a habit he had, I noticed it a long time ago but it's a perk I got use to and considering my perks are a little more difficult I guess putting up with him clearing his throat now and again really isn't that bad. His feet were crossed out in front of him and he was wearing a checkered shirt with one of his jumpers. His jumpers were another thing about him. He had a lot of jumpers just like I have a lot of coats. "Sherlock?"

"Mmm?"  
"Is there any food?" I laughed. He had forgotten that too. I've always been a terrible shopper and I always forgot to get food in. John use to have to do it all the time although he didn't like the self-service tills very much. "I'll take that as a no then."  
"Nope."

He let out a long frustrated sigh, "Right, I'll order something for tonight."  
I didn't really respond, I did that. If there was no real room for a response I sometimes never really saw the point in doing so. People found it 'rude' but then again, people find most things I do rude and I honestly couldn't care less. People call me rude for telling their life story through observing but I don't see how. It is not my fault that people have their 'secrets' written all over them. If they want them to be secrets then they've got to get better at hiding it, that's not my problem. People think they're so clever going outside and think that they've got everything that goes on inside their heads well hidden when in fact I can read so much from their entire outside appearance. It's really not that difficult and I don't understand the fuss people make over it. 

I hopped off of the sofa and went into my room looking for a book when my phone received a text from Lestrade:

_Got a good one. Come to Scotland Yard quick._

_GL_

Right

SH

I put the phone back in lock and headed towards the living room to get my coat. I swung the door open and lifted them from the back of it and turned my head towards John who was staring at me, "Coming?"  
"No."

I cocked an eyebrow up at him then shook it off, "Okay, don't wait up." I was curious as to why John said no. Usually he's itching for danger, excitement. It's his problem, he's addicted to a certain lifestyle and he knows it, so why he didn't come I didn't know. Part of me said it was because I didn't go on the walk but who knows. I walked outside, hopping off the last step and making sure the door knocker wasn't straight. I waved to a taxi and hopped in, "Scotland Yard."  
  
As soon as I got there I ran in and the entire place was empty. I searched everywhere for Lestrade or at least someone who works here. I stopped in his office and heard a click of shoes behind me. I spun on my heel and was met face to face with _him_.

 


	5. Chapter 5

"Hey, Sherlock. It's been a while hasn't it?" The familiar Irish accent sent a chill down my spine as I locked eyes with Moriarty. Although I had defeated him he still terrified me. People think that because I'm extremely clever that I am not afraid but bravery is stupidity. "Yes, it has."  
"You'll never guess who's here. Go on guess."  
"No."  
"Oh c'mon we haven't had a game in a while, aren't you bored?"  
"I said no."  
"Shall I just bring them out then? Since you're so boring? I always knew you were boring and ordinary, still little old ordinary Sherlock, you haven't changed much." His tone of voice was mocking and that always angered me, but I never showed it. "Alright come on out!" As soon as Moriarty had finished, Mary walked in and stared at me, smirking. Oh that big smug smile, I'd seen her do it before. "Mary."  
"Sherlock."  
"Where's, John?"  
"I was wondering when you were gonna ask about Johnny Boy."  
"So he's here? Loaded with explosives again?"  
"Oh no, Sherlock. It's even better than that."  
John walked out and stood beside them all and placed his arm around Mary. "J-John."

"Oh, Sherlock. Your heart was more vulnerable than I thought."  
"No, John."  
"Sherlock, once upon a time I cared for you but times change don't they."

"Y-yes I think they d-do."  
"Aww would you look at that, Johnny makes Sherlock stutter. Does Mary ever get jealous?" All feelings of hurt, anger, betrayal, sadness and once again loneliness struck me. "You know we've been planning this for a long time, Sherlock. You see, Johnny Boy here is still a bit angry and well Mary's just a bad girl." He smirked and and breathed air between his teeth making that _horrible_ sound, it was patronizing. "You know, Mary I think you should've killed him whilst you had the chance don't you?"  
"Oh, _I tried._ "  
"But this is going to be more fun is it not?" That sentence stung the most because John said it. I was more afraid of John's words because I had trusted him for so long. I couldn't believe what was happening. I could not actually imagine that John was actually intending on hurting me, that all those nights he had spent in Baker Street he knew exactly what he was about to do. "Oh this is such a turn isn't it, Sherlock? Bigger than the fake suicide don't you think? Not to other people of course I just know what hurts _you_ the most."

John was like a completely different person. He was dark, scary and he showed less sentiment than me. For once in my life I was vulnerable and everyone in the room knew it. "Johnny over here shot Lestrade in case you go looking for him."  
"H-he did wh-what?"  
"Oh you heard him clear, Sherlock."  
"John why would y-you do tha-at"

Every breath intake was sharp. It was like there was shards of glass in my throat and lungs. As if the air was sliding past them, causing immense pain I hadn't quite experienced before (bar the time I was choked in Soo Lin Yao's flat). I swallowed hard, hoping it would help.

"To hurt you. You put me through hell for two years. Moriarty promised that I would be able to make you feel the same pain I did, I couldn't pass that down."  
"DON'T BE RIDICULOUS JOHN IT'S HIS FAULT IT EVER HAPPENED AT ALL!"

I knew John had endured pain, I mentioned it in the speech after all. I was just too stupid and blind to actually notice what some of my pain inflicted. So what had the past few months meant? The hug, caring when his wife shot me and the whole heartfelt words in the train. No, those were real I could tell. So something wasn't right. There was something suspicious in all of this.

"He wasn't stopping you from contacting me or at least letting me know somehow that you were alive was he?"  
"I explained all that to you. DID YOU EVEN LISTEN?"  
"OH, YOU CAN TALK."  
"Ladies, stop fighting over me. Johnny's with me, Sherlock and the sooner you get that in your head the better."  
"That is not John." Moriarty chuckled at me and burst into a fit of laughter, "Right who else is it then?"  
"I didn't say his face. You know exactly what I meant."

And that's when it hit me. Something has been done to John. Torture? Hypnosis? Lies? It wasn't quite clear now but all I knew is that John wasn't the same.

"I think it's time we put curly to sleep. John would you like to do the honors?" My breathing quickened as John approached me. I knew he was going to knock me out with a gun but there was nothing I could have necessarily done about that. Moriarty knew I wouldn't try and escape anyway. John raised his hand and all I remember is feeling a blow on the back of my neck.


End file.
